Dead wrong. She did have to worry, not because of his scars but because of the rest of his spectacular torso. He looked as if he’d been chiseled by a master sculptor who had lost patience and flung handfuls of clay over one half of his work. Muscles rippled and flexed as he draped his t-shirt across the back of his chair.

What had she been thinking? This was lunacy. No way could she put her hands on this man and not lose her carefully achieved cool.

“It’s bad, huh?” His face was turned away from her as he spoke in a low voice. “If you want to back out, I understand.”

Yes, she wanted to back out. Because a certain sensation was vaulting through her lower belly right now. Want. Desire. Sexual desire. Crap. Crap crap crap. She cleared her throat.

“Of course not. It’s not so bad. I’ve definitely seen worse.” She focused on his scarring. It covered the left side of his rib cage, all the way down to his hip. It was probably tough for him to twist and bend. She was amazed that he’d climbed onto a roof and stayed in a hunched position for so long. He must have impressive pain tolerance, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Healing took time, and patients with no patience could set back their recovery by months. “I’m going to ask the classic pain question. One to ten, with ten being the worst, where is it right now?”

“About a three. Pretty good, considering I’ve been on an airplane.”

“What other activities aggravate it?”

“Exercise in general can be challenging. Running is fine unless I trip and have to twist or something. Swimming isn’t too bad. It’s more of a controlled environment.” He put his hands to the fastening of his jeans and her mouth went dry again.

Oops, she’d told him to take his pants off too. She shouldn’t have done that. Seriously, she wasn’t made of stone here! She opened her mouth to rescind that part of the request, but nothing came out. That was because he was in the midst of revealing the most muscular thighs she’d ever witnessed up close. Every inch of his physique was fit and honed and bronzed. Under his jeans, he wore a pair of black boxer briefs that were filled in a snug way that had her turning red again.

She averted her gaze before it became too obvious that she was staring. As she took out the salves she worked with, she kept taking little peeks from the corners of her eyes. Almost as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Were his abs really that ripped? Were his shoulders actually that wide and solid? He wasn’t overly buff, not like someone who spent a lot of time pumping iron or juicing up on steroids. He was just…perfect. His long torso was a graceful V, his waist narrowing from those wide shoulders into slim hips. Not one particle of flab appeared anywhere on his body. He was all lean, sleek perfection. And his legs looked so insanely strong, as if he could run up the side of a mountain without blinking.

Which he probably could.

She wondered why the scars didn’t detract from his appeal, at least to her. She remembered Annika’s description of his “deformity.” How could she see someone like Finn, a brave, injured, gorgeous fireman, as deformed just because of some damaged skin?

She must have been muttering something about that, because Finn said, “What was that?”

“Oh nothing, I was just thinking bad things about Annika.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “What, that she’d walk away from all this?” He struck a muscle-man pose. “Nah. It was all an act anyway. Maybe you didn’t pick up on that part.”

“What do you mean, an act?”

“To promote the movie. You know, injured firefighter, angelic actress. I went along with it because she was a sweetheart to me after the burnover. Another act, though I didn’t know it.” He rubbed the dark stubble on his jaw. “The tabloids loved it. Not that you would know about that, because you probably never read that trash.”

And…there went The Blush heating her face again. If he only knew how many times she’d read that article about him and Annika. She still hadn’t returned it to the Moon Glow, as a matter of fact. She made a mental note to do that immediately. Well, as soon as she read it one more time, with this new knowledge.

Finn had never been with Annika at all? Wow. That changed things. She wasn’t sure how, but it did.

Lisa made herself stop ogling his body and switch into Nurse Badass mode. “It’s none of my business anyway. You don’t have to explain anything to your massage therapist.”

“Right.” He smiled wryly. “I forgot for a minute and thought I was just standing here in my underwear for the hell of it.”

She smiled at him. “Come on, let’s get going before you freeze. Please lie down in whatever position feels best to you.”

He whooshed out a deep breath then lowered himself onto his knees on the mat. Gingerly, he stretched out on his side, with the burned area facing her. He dragged a pillow under his head and shifted around until he found a position that worked. Instead of watching his body, she kept her gaze on his face, noticing every wince and twitch of pain.

When he was still, she scooped a dollop of cream into her hand. For her grandfather, she’d developed a mixture of Vitamin E oil, Calendula, aloe vera, and lavender to keep the scars soft and moist.

“One great thing about massage is that the pressure helps take away that itchy feeling. Have you had much of that?”

“Oh yeah.”

Starting at the outer edge of the scarred area, she gently stretched the scar tissue with small, steady movements. He didn’t react beyond tightening his jaw and closing his eyes.

“When I did this with my grandfather, he used to curse at me in Spanish. That’s how I knew how much pressure to use. If he started in on anything related to ‘porco,’ or ‘dios,’ I had to ease back.”

He grunted, his right eyelid twitching. “I’m not going to curse. I’m a big strong mother-effing fireman who doesn’t curse. Not fucking ever.”

She laughed. It was truly amazing how easily he made her laugh. “I know it hurts. It’s okay, you can just let it out.”

“That’s okay. I’m still trying to impress you. Can’t you tell? Why else would I show off my scars? I’m being sarcastic, by the way. And I’m trying to distract myself from your…mother of God!” He moaned. “I’m pretty sure this is banned by the Geneva Convention. Or it ought to be.”

There went one of her grandfather’s telltale words. “I’ll lighten up.”

“Fuck no. If your grandfather could take it, I can. Big strong tough fireman here.”

She shifted to the area along his laterals, trying desperately not to focus on the bronzed washboard abs just inches from her fingers. “Haven’t you heard the news, Finn? This is the twenty-first century, it’s okay for men to show their vulnerability. You don’t always have to be the Mighty Finn.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m winning the gold medal in showing my vulnerability right now. I look like raw hamburger. Come on, help me out here. Distract me. Tell me something good.”

“Something good?” She applied more oil to her hands and smoothed her fingers down his side. Touching someone, even in a medical capacity, always created a connection. This was what she loved—tending to people, taking care of them. In the months since leaving Houston, she’d missed it. First Molly, now Finn—it felt good, like getting her life back.

“I can recite a delicious recipe for flan. That’s good.”

“Do it. I beg you.”

She rattled off the instructions for her grandmother’s specialty.

“God, that sounds incredible. Someday maybe you’ll invite me over for flan.” His jaw clenched as she stretched an especially tender spot.

She laughed. “I don’t date patients, I told you.”

“It’s not a date, it’s flan. How many times have you eaten flan in your life?”

“I’m part-Cuban, so probably hundreds.” Her gaze slid across his broad shoulders to the dark hair curling over his ears. She wanted to run her hands through it, but kept them where they belonged.

“Were all those flan-eating occasions dates?”

“Of course not.”

“There you go. No date. Just flan.” He sighed and shifted his position, making his muscles flex under his olive skin. “So who do you date, Lisa Peretti? No patients, no strangers in lookout towers. Who’s left?”

“Well…” She hesitated, wondering if this was too personal a direction to go in. “Actually, I haven’t dated much. I’ve been mainly focused on my nursing career.”

“Huh. What are you, late-twenties? Mid-twenties?”

“I’m twenty-eight. I’ve been busy with school, the ER, and so forth. It’s a draining profession.” Getting defensive, she dug her fingers too deeply into his muscles. “Sorry.”

“I can take it as long as you keep distracting me. Keep talking. What inspired you to become a nurse?”

She gave a maniacal laugh. “So I can have big strong firemen at my mercy, bwahaha.”

He snorted. “Seriously. I want to know.”

“Well…” She thought back on her time in the ER, all the highs and the lows—and her breaking point. “As a nurse, you’re the person who’s there when people are going through some of the scariest times in their lives. They’re in a crisis and they’re terrified. They’re at their most vulnerable. And to know that I have the skills to help, even if I can’t cure whatever they have, just to be there for them, it’s very satisfying.”

“Then you’re just like firemen. You run into the crisis, not away. Fires for us, medical disasters for you nurses. We’re just alike, underneath.”

She laughed. “I never thought of it that way.”

They fell silent as she worked on the lower perimeter of his scar mass, where it impacted his hip.

“But now you’re not working in the ER anymore. What happened?” he asked.

“Oh…” Better keep this answer vague. “I needed a break. It’s emotionally overwhelming. Right now, I have one patient and that’s all I can handle. Well, two, I suppose, counting you.”

He tilted his head to smile at her, but she gently pressed it back to the mat. “So you’re a beautiful, intelligent, kind-of-secretive, badass ER nurse with divorced parents who spends all her time at work and never dates. It’s all starting to make sense now.”

“It is?”

“Yup. You have intimacy issues. Textbook case.”

She laughed out loud. “Thanks for the diagnosis. Aren’t you supposed to be the patient in this scenario?”

“I am. I’m very patient. I’m patiently figuring you out, piece by piece. You care about people, or you wouldn’t be working in a healing profession. But you like to keep them at a distance. You have that electric fence around you for a reason.”

“Right, better watch out or you’ll get zapped,” she teased.

“You think I’m afraid of getting zapped? I’m not.” He twitched his shoulder to draw attention to his burns. “Big tough fireman, remember?”

She was having a hard time forgetting, with all his chiseled muscles and scarred skin.

“You’ll see, one of these days you’ll turn off the electric fence and invite me over for flan,” Finn said.

“Not a chance. There’s no space. I live in a motorhome.” She sucked in a breath, stunned by how easily that secret had slipped out. Not even Molly knew about her motorhome.

“A motorhome?” He rolled over onto his back and snagged her wrist in mid-stroke. “You fascinate me, Lisa. Why are you so fascinating?” Her eyes widened. She was still on her knees, leaning over him. Electric attraction sizzled between them. Her ponytail slid off her shoulder and brushed his chest. Even that contact gave her a jolt, as if she had nerve endings in the strands of her hair.

“I’m not fascinating. I’m perfectly ordinary.”

“Not to me.” His intense gaze captured her and refused to let her go. “I want to know everything about you. What you think, what you feel, how you feel, how you taste.”

He tugged her closer. A drumbeat of desire pulsed between her thighs. Oh, this was not good. Not good at all.

“I’m insanely attracted to you, Lisa. And unless I’m crazy, you’re attracted to me too.”

She bit her lip. Too bad she was such a bad liar. If she tried to deny it, he’d know in a flash. He could already read her so well. “Yes,” she admitted. “Fine, I’m attracted to you. You’re attractive. There’s chemistry. Sparks. And of course I feel them. I’m a nurse, not a nun.”

He studied her face intently. “Then what are you afraid of? It’s not the scars. They don’t bother you. We’re not in some kind of real professional setting with rules. No one’s going to care if we kiss.”

If we kiss.

The idea set off wild sparks in every direction. Kiss Finn? Oh yes. Her body was practically throwing a party at the thought. Her nipples tightened, liquid heat spread through her lower body. She imagined his sexy mouth pressed against hers, his scruff scraping against her soft skin. Her tongue tingled. She pressed it to the roof of her mouth.

This was crazy. She shook her head to break the spell.

Then her practical side took over. Kissing Finn would be just like kissing anyone else. Anti-climactic. After all, kissing was tricky. It was so easy to overdo it. To be honest, kissing had never lived up to her expectations. Not once. In her opinion, it was an extremely overrated activity.

Yes, that was it! The answer came like a flashing neon sign. If she kissed Finn, she could shake this silly attraction-slash-crush she was developing. If he was at all slobbery or overeager or clumsy with his kiss, she’d be over him—just like that.

And really, the chances were good that she’d find something to object to. The last time she’d kissed someone—a doctor she’d dated briefly—all kinds of thoughts had wandered through her head. I don’t like how his teeth feel. Did I get Mrs. Carter her meds yet? What’s the world record for longest kiss? What about shortest? Can we go for that?

Kissing Finn was the perfect solution.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours?” Finn asked, amusement curving his lips. She took in the scruff around his mouth. It would probably scrape her skin and break the mood. He still looked tired from his redeye flight. This was the perfect moment; the kiss would suck, and she could forget about Finn.

“I was just…thinking…” Instead of finishing her sentence, she drew in a long breath and dove in. Bad kiss coming up.

Her lips met his. His breath is so sweet. That was her first thought. And then, Sweet mercy, that feels good.

And then, Oh crap. Big miscalculation.

It took him no time to catch up with her. He went from surprise to kissing the hell out of her in about half a second. He took charge of the kiss immediately, his lips warm and firm. His tongue urged her lips apart, gently touched hers, drew her in, intoxicated her with every smooth sweep and tug. His hands came to her head and held her still. She melted into his grip, feeling all hesitation and tension drain away. She closed her eyes and lost track of where she was.

Finn kissed like a champion, as if he’d been born and bred for it, as if he could read her mind and know exactly what would feel best. He kissed as if they had all the time in the world, as if nothing mattered except the two of them, right now.

It felt as if she were flying through a velvet-dark sky lit up with sparks. She could soar forever like this, coasting on wings of pleasure.

Then it shifted, the kiss going deeper, as if Finn was telling her a story in this other language, the language of lips clinging, of hands kneading, of erections rising.

Erections.

Sharp excitement seized her as the ridge of his arousal pressed against her thighs. Her wet, trembling thighs. Oh my God. She could come right here against him, with all their clothes still on. And she wanted that, so badly.

What the hell?

She ripped herself away from the kiss and realized she was now straddling him. When had that happened? She’d been kneeling next to him when the kiss began. Now she was riding him like a rodeo queen.

“Oh my God.” She scrambled off his body. He groaned and scrubbed a hand across his face. His erection made a steeple in his boxer briefs. She held a hand up to block the sight so she didn’t get any more crazy ideas. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“It wasn’t? But you kissed me.”

“I know I did. I kissed you on purpose, but you weren’t supposed to be so good at it.” She glared at him accusingly. “It was supposed to be a bad kiss. The kind of kiss I’d never want to repeat.”

His bewildered look dissolved into laughter. “Maybe you should have clued me in to the bad-kiss thing. I would have done my best, because I always give one thousand percent when it comes to kissing.”

“I noticed. Damn you.” Her hair had come loose from its ponytail. Viciously, she swept it back into place and twisted her hair tie around it. “You’re an amazing kisser. And I know exactly why. Because you’ve done it so much. You’re a player, just like I thought. Of course you wouldn’t be a bad kisser. You’re the Mighty Finn. I don’t even want to think about what sex with you would be like.”

“It would be a disaster, I’m sure,” he said dryly. “Incredibly good, and a total disaster.”

“Exactly.”

She shoved her salves back into her bag. Now that she was coming back to her senses, she had the need to get out, to get back to her own place, her own little haven in the woods.

“So that’s it? Kissing and leaving?”

The Blush marched across her face like a blow torch. “I’m sorry I kissed you. That was completely unprofessional of me. I promise it won’t happen again.”

She focused on packing up her bag while he got up from the yoga mat. She couldn’t handle the sight of his body anymore.

“Maybe it was a good kiss because we’re good together,” he said softly.

She rolled up the yoga mat willy-nilly, so it ended in a lopsided shamble instead of her usual tidy roll. “Don’t say that. This can’t happen. I don’t even know how long I’m going to be here.”

He tugged his shirt over his head. She gave him one last look, scorching the image of him into her brain. Strong thighs emerging from his tight briefs, t-shirt clinging to his torso, scruff darkening his jaw. Eyes burning with frustration.

“And there goes that electric fence. Zap.”

She shouldered her tote bag and hurried toward the front door. “Oh, wait.” She turned back and pulled a sheaf of papers from her bag. “I printed out some exercises for you. Just in case you see good results from what we did today.”

He took the pages and leafed through them. “I’d say the results so far are interesting and definitely deserve further exploration. But that’s just me.”

She had no answer for that, and since his magnetism was drawing her like gravity, she escaped out the door before she gave in to temptation again.

With her entire body still tingling, she dashed across the open lawn to the driveway where she’d left her car. Finn had it all wrong. If anyone had gotten “zapped,” it was her.